Two Mothers - Ruth

Here is a poem I was working on way back when I was in Kim's class.  I think it was the only one I asked her about other than classwork and she advised I add more of the cord imagery and used particulars where I used abstracts for "unspeakable..."  I made a few minor changes and sent it to her but it must have been lost or she was moving or something, so I'm presenting it here.

I was very emotional when I wrote this, maybe I didn't have the perspective I needed.  I showed it to one person who thought it was "bathos."  I haven't worked on it since way back when, so I thought I'd dredge it up now and see if it is indeed "bathos," if I can rescue it, and in what direction to take it, and finally what about the changes.  In the first version what I removed are in italics, in the second version what I added are in italics.  I don't like the second change about bones and swords, but before I work any more on this thought I'd post it here and get an opinion(s).

 

Two Mothers  (first version)

In May, one week after Mother's Day

a blonde woman waves to her children

and drives away in a red car.

The breath of health embraces her,

life rings from the bell of her body.

Around the corner, a blue van

appears, full of young men, someone's sons,

drunk. One of them is mine. Iron grinds,

land and sky spin out a surreal

sculpture, the woman at its heart.

Yet it's all too real. Petals

of familiar voices encircle

her like a wreathed bouquet issuing

a soothing scent for a fragile moment

until it's lost to the acrid

reek of gasoline. A cloud of bitter

soot sucks the breath from her mouth.

Red and blue fuse to the color

of a bruise. Unspeakable sound

is the only knowledge;

unbearable pain is the only truth.

The door to the earth opens,

deep and cold, numb and still.

I yearn to throw a lifeline,

unwinding the cord that binds my heart

to pull her back to this world,

one mother to another.

But what the boys have taken

cannot be returned.

...........................................................

Two Mothers   (second version)

In May, one week after Mother's Day

a blonde woman waves to her children

and drives away in a red car.

The breath of health embraces her,

life rings from the bell of her body.

Around the corner, a blue van

appears, full of young men,

someone's sons, drunk. I am tied

to the one who is mine.  Iron grinds,

land and sky spin out a surreal

sculpture, the woman at its heart.

Petals of familiar voices encircle

her like a wreathed bouquet,

a soothing scent for a fragile moment

until it's lost to the acrid

smell of gasoline. A cloud of bitter

soot sucks the breath from her mouth.

Red and blue fuse to the color

of a bruise. The only truth

is bone split to sword,

twisted viscera, a brutal roar.

The door to the earth opens,

deep and cold, numb and still.

I yearn to throw a lifeline,

unwinding the cord that binds my heart

to pull her back to this world,

one mother to another.

But what the boys have taken

cannot be returned.